The Wistful Silence
The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent and gray curtain that turned the cobblestones of Oakhaven into a slick, reflective mirror where the world above was inverted and distorted, and it was in this perpetual dampness that Elias Thorne, a man whose life had been defined by the quiet accumulation of evidence and the cold logic of deduction, stood before the window of his study,...
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